


Fire and Power.

by Little_buttercup



Series: Nereval and Nerevar [19]
Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 23:23:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12692319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_buttercup/pseuds/Little_buttercup





	Fire and Power.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elyhandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elyhandra/gifts).



She trudged through the Clockwork city. Though she was on high alert, the hairs on the back of her neck were standing upright. Even Nerevar was uneasy, the feeling in his stomach had intensified since they had first set foot in the city.

 

At her side, hung True flame. A truly magnificent sword.

 

Nerevar had spent several days teaching her how to use it. Though at first she was clumsy, she could hardly lift the sword, but throughout the harsh instructions Nerevar had given her, she finally managed to strike decently. Then, he began to stand behind her, directing her hands into the right positions, her body into the right stances. He could feel the warmth of her body against his old spirit, and it sent shivers down her spine. Having him so close, whispering into her ear, had left her truly flustered.

 

But now, she could handle the sword, strike like it was natural to her. It had taken days for her to learn, and she still had much to improve on, but Nerevar deemed it enough, she could defend herself from his attacks. It gave him a piece of mind, though she still relied on bonebiter for long distances, she had the confidence now to wield the sword.

 

Eventually, they got to the chamber in which Sotha Sil was residing in.

 

But Nereval let out a sob when she saw the corpse, a hand clasping over her mouth. Nerevar took the opportunity to approach, holding the dead Gods head within his hands and pressing a kiss to his forehead, murmuring a prayer in an ancient language Nereval had only heard him speak once.

 

She approached after a moment, encircling the cold body within her arms and clutching tight.

 

“I got here too late, I am sorry.” She muttered, her tears falling onto his most mechanical body. She never had the chance to talk to him, never had the chance to hear his side of the story. She could feel misery setting in and she stepped back, wiping her tears away.

 

“He knew.” Nerevar muttered to her, placing a hand onto her shoulder.

 

“He knew the killer?” She looked up to Nerevar, sniffling a little.

 

“Yes, but he knew this would happen.” He stood in front of her, cupping her wet cheeks and staring into her eyes, “You must not let this dampen your spirit. I have a feeling that the killer will be back, you must channel this anger to fight.”

 

She nodded, taking a deep breath in. Mourning can come later.

 

Just as they were about to leave, Nereval jumped in fright as the figure of Almalexia came into view, and suddenly it all made sense to her. Anger bubbled inside of her, but also sadness. To see the Tribunal end with treachery, and after years of protecting the peoples of Morrowind…

 

Ayem had showed herself to be the master of all the destruction, to all of the scheming. It saddened Nereval, she had thought highly of her at first, even against what Nerevar had said. But she proved to them both that she was just as powerful while fighting as she was wielding a silver tongue. During their battle, Nereval fell to her knees. There was a roaring in her ears, and a sense of urgency tugged at the corners of her mind. The heat around her was too much, a powerful spell Almalexia had cast, it was like a physical mass. It pushed her down, willing for her to give in and fall. She tried to stand, but her legs felt as though someone had tied weights to them.

 

She was suddenly aware that her cheeks were burning, and with raw fingers slipping she struggling to tear the thing off from her head, taking in gulps of air. Where were her gloves? Had she lost them within the Clockwork city? Or had she pulled them off during the fight? She could not remember. Every little movement she made was strained, even drawing in breaths was a struggle. Her mind was dazed, she could not move even if she had willed herself to.

 

She was going to die, it was a sudden and terrible clarity that struck her . She could not move, she was too weak and tired. Ayem had put up a good fight, much more than the Sharmat had. It was not surprising, and she almost felt honored that she would die by the false Gods weapon.

 

More flames seemed to rush towards her, licking at her armor like a hungry beast. A blackness began to close over her vision but with one last, desperate attempted she dragged herself to her feet.

 

It wasn’t a moment too soon, as out from the flames Almalexia came at her. Her hate-filled face twisted with a wordless battle cry and her sword raised above her head, ready to deliver the finishing blow. But she felt her muscles working out of their own accord, pain shooting through her body as she raised her arms with bonebiter, the clang of the two metals sent a jolt through her body. Nereval braced herself for the next blow, but her body could not take anymore. With a ragged breath the bow fell from her hands, though the sound was far off. It was as if her soul had detached from her body, she could see the events in her mind. But soon the images were replaced with beautiful images of Morrowind, of its people, then of Nerevar. Of his kind nature, his soft words and touches.

 

But that was not right, they had not been intimate, she had not noticed him sharing any interest in her. It must have been some trickery of the smoke and flames around her, at least, that is what she thought as she looked at the towering figure above her. From the powerful muscles, the tattoos, then to the beautiful face that was Almalexia. Had she taken her mask off? When did that happen?

 

Suddenly, there was a cry, and a pounding of footsteps coming towards them. The figure before her gasped as a white shape had pierced her through the back and out the front of her chest. The body crumpled and fell, with a sickening thud and a muddled clatter.

 

That was all she could remember, for she had collapsed next to the figure of Almalexia. It was too much, but now, she could rest. Even as Nerevar pulled her up with what strength he had, even as he possessed her body to bring her to safety, she was not aware of it, her mind was elsewhere. He had urged Nereval to get up, he had urged her to get to safety, but this was the only way he could assure himself that she would be alright. 

 

Perhaps she would, if they could make it to Vivec quick enough.


End file.
